Manning his post, Angel paces. The portal is uneventful, rippling slowly like the surface of puddle. Buffy stayed back at the hotel, but promised to sneak out to meet him later. He did not want to have to explain her presence to Gunn. Gunn barely believed his story about having to chase a demon through town (requiring him to leave the portal and then get to the hotel before sunrise) on the night that Buffy came through. Often the muscle of the group, Gunn didn't concern himself with all the details. But, he didn't have to look too closely to know that something had changed.
His time with Buffy felt like days rather than just hours. His world seemed to move slower when she was in it. Angel berated himself for not telling her what Wesley said. Buffy's presence may be temporary. He could lose her again. The portal that he was protecting the world from, trying to close, could also take Buffy back as quickly as it had given her to him.
The only thing worse than thinking those thoughts would be to say them out loud. So, he had not told her. Wesley was not sure, anyway. There was not much information on these types of portals, and even when the team had information, it was not always correct. Angel tried to erase the possibility with reason after reason.
Truthfully, he didn't think he needed to tell her. She already knew. She said as much. I don't think I'm supposed to be here. He could say nothing to the contrary, instead trying to convince her and himself that she was with his words and his touch. Being away from her now made it hard to believe it had happened at all. Maybe he dreamed it.
The soft rustle of leaves gets his attention. "I never could sneak up on you," Buffy says, appearing between the trees. She is wearing one of his black shirts like a dress, blending into the night. Her honey blonde hair simmers in the moonlight, starkly bright against the forest. Her image does nothing to dissuade his dream theory.
"Just like patrolling in Sunnydale," she says as she walks towards him, "Complete with smoochies." Her words are a warning for her kiss.
Angel is still at first, taking a moment to savor the very corporeal feel of her lips on his. He gives into the embrace of her mouth as her arms wrap around his waist. He can feel the brush of a stake against his spine. "I remember this being a distraction," he mumbles against her lips.
Buffy pulls away to laugh. "Don't worry, I'm extra focused. Which I why I noticed some strange chick sitting in a parked car," she says. She throws her thumb over her shoulder in a gesture to the parking lot close to the observatory.
Angel follows Buffy as she leads. They stick to the forest, hiding themselves in the darkest shadows. At the parking lot, there is one parked car, engine off. From the streetlamp, Angel can see the silhouette of a woman in the driver's seat. She is looking in their direction, but he is sure she can't see them. He looks closely, recognizing the woman's dark hair and angular face. "I know her. Marlo," he whispers.
Buffy looks surprised. "She was here last night," he explains quietly, "Cordelia saw her in the vision. Gunn spoke with her. She said that she was out for a jog when she was attacked."
"So, then it makes perfect sense for her to come back in the middle of the night," Buffy says sarcastically.
"It does if she's who opened it," Angel pieces together. "Wesley said the portal is used to bring someone to this world rather than to transport someone out. She is the one who opened it, and she is waiting for who she called. After they come through, the portal will close." Once again, guilt bubbles in his throat.
"Then, let's go have a chat," Buffy says. She strides out to the parking lot purposefully.
Buffy, Angel, and Marlo stand in the forest. The portal waves beside them. Marlo's face is stained with tears as she talks. "I was just trying to get her back," she says through hiccups. Her tears have slowed down enough to talk.
"Who?" Angel asks the obvious question. Buffy stands close to him, sensing his unease.
"Laurel," Michele says, "We were practicing a spell together, trying to move objects between worlds. Like to develop a messaging system." Buffy and Angel nod. "We couldn't get it to work. Sending something was easy, but we had no way of knowing if it go to the right place. Laurel wanted to go though. That way, she could see where she went, then come back to report."
"So you let her go?" Buffy asks, "And she hasn't come back?"
"She couldn't perform the spell on herself. So, I-" Marlo stops talking and resumes crying. "I sent her. I sent her through." Marlo puts her face into her hands. "If I did the spell right, she should have gotten to a parallel universe. Then all she would have to do is chant the return spell to come back to me." She inhales a shaky breath. "I must have- I guess I didn't do the spell right. Why hasn't she came back to me?" She directs her question to Angel and Buffy, begging them to have an answer.
Angel locks eyes with Buffy. They have no answers for Marlo. Angel's life has changed so much in the last day that he has no answers for much of anything.
"I found this spell, this coaxing portal, and I had to try it," Marlo adds. "But nothing is working. I keep calling, and calling," she says, her voice breaking. "I've lost her," Marlo repeats, her voice growing quieter and her tears flowing faster with each repetition.
Buffy reaches for Angel's arm and pulls him to the side, giving Marlo space. Her eyes glisten as she looks into his eyes. "Angel," she breathes, reaching a hand to his face. He looks into her green eyes, seeking comfort. Angel finds pain. It is too easy for her to empathize with Marlo. Both of their minds are flashing back to his mansion, in front of Acathla. His hand subconsciously finds the spot on his abdomen where she stabbed him. His skin may not scar, but neither of them need a marker to find the exact spot. Buffy covers his hand with hers. "We have to help her," she says.
"I know," he returns, his voice hoarse with emotion. Angel clears his throat forcefully. "It's the only way to close the portal." He does not mean to sound insensitive, but approaching the problem so personally will do harm.
"Right, close the portal," Buffy repeats, stiffening her resolve. "Marlo said she has been calling to her, but nothing has happened. When I came though, I felt pulled. What were you doing to pull me?"
"Buffy, I-," Angel stutters, "I mean I wasn't trying to-." He struggles with words. Yanking Buffy out of heaven was not his intention. He had no idea what was going to happen.
Buffy reaches for him, placing her palm on his cheek. She traces his cheekbone with her thumb.. "I know it wasn't on purpose, but what were you doing?" Her face is soft, her features conveying understanding and love.
"I was missing you," he answers simply and truthfully. He felt he should have been there for her against Glory. Angel thought they would have more time. He didn't know how to keep fighting the good fight if she was not out there doing the same. All of it boiled down to him wanting her back in his arms again.
Buffy blushes, smiles, then presses a kiss to his lips. One kiss turns into several. "I felt you. I wanted to come, to follow your pull. I missed you, too," she says.
"So maybe Laurel doesn't want to come back?" Angel asks.
"It's possible. But, I'm thinking that maybe she can't. Marlo is pulling, but she is stuck wherever she is," Buffy hypothesizes.
It makes enough sense. "Forces," Angel muses aloud, "she needs a push." He shakes his head in wonder, recalling Fred's pictures on the wall. Push in one direction to overcome the opposing forces.
Buffy is suspiciously quiet. Finally, she speaks quietly, "I can go." Angel's brown eyes find hers quickly in confusion. All too quickly, it makes sense. "I can go," she repeats, stronger this time, but Angel still does not want to hear the words.
"No," he answers reflexively. He takes a tight grip on her hands. "You don't have to save the world again." They could just guard the portal forever. Not much different than a hellmouth. Maybe move everyone out of the city.
Buffy says his name quietly, interrupting his false hopes. She unwinds her hands from his and twists them in his hair instead. She kisses his cheeks and whispers his name again.
"You came back for this?" Angel asks, searching her eyes. "For goodbye?" His voice cracks harshly on the last word, as if it pains him to speak it.
"Yes," she says confidently. Buffy does not offer anything else. They needed this time, this experience, this comfort.
Angel wants to argue. He wants to find another way. There could be an outcome where Buffy stays, and the portal closes. With more time, Wesley might find a new spell. Buffy could even get Willow to help. As he thinks, each idea gets more and more far fetched, more distant from their reality.
The portal begins to wave furiously, snapping the attention of all three onlookers. Angel raises his battle axe, and Buffy twirls her stake. Marlo backs up quickly.
The mirror-like surface stills momentarily before a figure emerges. The demon is tall with green skin. It's mouth is in the shape of a beak on its large head, giving a demure impression. Angel begins to say something, but is stopped short when the demon's head opens like a book. A large black mass unfurls from where it's brain should be.
When Buffy sees the humongous insect-like creature that was hidden in the demon's head, she cringes exaggeratedly. "Now, that's a whole new level of ew," she says.
Angel arcs his battle axe broadly. One of the insect pinchers falls to the ground. The demon twists to the side from the blow, knocked off balance. Buffy drops low, swinging her leg out and around to swipe the demon's legs out from under him. When the demon lands on its back, Angel brings the edge of his axe to meet it. The insect body curls grotesquely after the blow.
The battle axe drips sticky purple blood onto the ground. Angel bends to wipe the blade on the ground. Before the blade is clean, the portal ripples again. This time two of the green Nurbatch demons emerge. Angel nods to Buffy, and they pair off. As Angel fights, the portal surface moves like boiling water in his peripheral vision.
For every demon Angel dispatches, two more take its place. Buffy is equally overwhelmed. At some point, she has lost her stake and has resorted to repeated punches and kicks. As if the current chaos wasn't enough, Marlo screams loudly. She picks up a fallen branch as a weapon and swings it wildly in all directions. Buffy manages to evade a bite from an insect head and rushes to Marlo. Angel follows, helping to form a semicircle around her.
Buffy is talking loudly to Marlo, trying to calm her down. Marlo stops swinging the stick, but grasps it so fiercely that her knuckles are white. "How?" Buffy yells to Marlo.
Angel rips his battle axe through a demon. He spins quickly, slicing another. The hilt of his axe is slippery with blood. He hears Buffy's fist connect with a demon before she yells again. "Click my heels three times?" he hears her say over the cacophony.
Another demon lunges, and Angel is too immersed in battle to overhear the rest of the conversation. He feels a sudden sharp pain in his right arm. The insect head managed to get a pincher around his bicep. He groans as he uses the muscle to swing the axe through the demon. Blood runs down his arm in rivulets, mixing in his hand with the blood of the slain. The pain brings out his own demon; his brow ridge morphs, and his teeth grow sharp.
The Nurbatch crowd him. Pinchers bite into his skin as he transfers his weapon to his left hand. He doubles his efforts, arcing his weapon with as much force as he can muster. He cuts down the demons sloppily, but effectively.
Momentarily, there is no imminent threat and he can check his surroundings. He searches immediately for Buffy. He finds her posed protectively in front of Marlo. The bodies of several demons lay on the ground around them. Buffy's shirt is torn in several places, but the blood spattered on her body is purple, not red. Marlo also looks uninjured, but she is speaking frantically into Buffy's ear. Angel watches her nod, listening to Marlo as she watches the portal. Her eyes find him. From the anxious look on her face, she has noticed his injuries.
"Angel," she says. He begins to answer with a reassurance, but she cuts him off. "Angel!" Her panic manifests in her voice, and she reaches a hand out. Angel follows her point, turning around just in time to duck a blow. He rises, bringing his axe up with him, splitting the demon up the middle. As the two pieces fall to opposing sides, he glimpses Buffy running towards the portal through the aperture. A demon blocks her path. She kicks out, placing a destabilizing blow to its leg. As it falls, she connects her first with it's green face, knocking it out before the insect can reveal itself.
Angel wrenches his eyes away to dispatch another demon. They keep coming through, one after another. Between slayings, he looks for Buffy, distressed. He spies Marlo running towards the parking lot. Finally, he sees Buffy. She works her way increasingly closer to the portal. When she is within a few feet, she turns back, immediately locking into his gaze. His vampire visage falls away.
Fighting has brought a flush to her face and tangled her hair. Her green eyes seem impossibly bright in the darkness. He wishes the rest of the world could fall away so that he could experience this moment eternally, but he knows it is in vain. She doesn't belong here. She has always been too good for this world.
Angel thinks her mouth moves in a declaration, but he cannot remove his eyes from their focus on hers to be sure. He does not see her go. A demon steals his attention. By the time it's body crumples, she is gone, and intruders demand his attention again.
His battle axe moves in broad strokes, his muscles powering it with renewed vigor. Angel beats down his crazed emotions with every demon killed. His blows slice through green flesh and insect chitin. His next swing is met with no resistance, and it throws him off balance. Righting himself, he looks around to see the demons turning to dust in a manner similar to staked vampires. The dust hangs in the air momentarily before falling. Even the pile of shrimp collapses into powder. The portal folds into itself, shrinking. It wavers to a pinprick of light, blazing brightly before disappearing entirely.
Angel removes his hand from shielding his eyes to find a girl. She is kneeling, short curly hair sticking in every direction. Before Angel can approach her, Marlo is at her side, called by the flash of light. Marlo cradles Laurel, whispering her name excitedly. Tears of relief are visible on the faces of both girls. Marlo helps Laurel to her feet, and they walk back in the direction of the parking lot. Before they are out of sight, Marlo looks back to Angel. Gratitude radiates from her. He nods. Soon, he can no longer hear their voices.
The forest is still, empty. He is alone. Angel waits unnecessarily, just in case, but it is futile.
Angel waits outside of the Hyperion, looking through the glass beside the door. He does not want to talk to anyone, but he has to tell them the portal is closed. He would rather brood, as Cordelia calls it. On his way over, he came up with a story to replace aspects of the truth.
Through the window, he can see into the foyer, where Wesley is at the front desk with a woman. It takes him several beats to realize that the woman in question is Fred. She looks nervous and out of place, fidgeting ceaselessly, but she is out of her room. Angel enters quietly, not drawing any attention.
"Your perspective is interesting," Wesley says, "Applying the laws of physics to the supernatural world offers explanations I would never have thought of."
Fred is flattered. Angel can see the blood rush to her face in a blush and the speed of her heartbeat accelerate. "That's what my professor and I were working on. Then, you know, the bit about portling into a place where I was basically a cow," she says, continuing to blush.
"Your formulas for the portal were the substitute for the usual spells. How did you find out what do do?" Wesley seems to be genuinely fascinated. He is eager for her answer.
"We approached it like a planetary system," Fred explains. She pulls out the notebook that Angel had given her. As she talks, she writes and doodles. "Each parallel universe is like a planet. To leave your dimension, like leaving a planet, you have to reach the escape velocity. That's how fast you have to go to escape the gravitational pull and enter space," she says.
"So, like rockets?" Wesley asks sheepishly. Fred giggles and nods.
"Portal is closed," Angel says. Fred squeaks in surprise, covering her mouth with both hands. Wesley jumps so suddenly that he almost knows off his glasses. After fixing them, he fires off a series of questions.
Angel raises his arms up as if to physically stop the interrogation, but the action reminds him of his injured bicep. He groans and lowers his arms. Fred races toward him, concerned. He unsuccessfully bats her away. She is persistent, and his wound is cleaned and bandaged swiftly. It should be healed by afternoon. Wesley is deterred with more success. Angel only tells him about Marlo, how she was the woman from the vision and the one who opened the portal. He leaves out the horde of Nurbatch demons. Most glaringly, he leaves out Buffy.
"So, when her friend came through, the portal just collapsed?" Wesley asks. Angel nods in agreement. Wesley is concerned that the witches would try to open a portal like that again, but Angel assures him that they will not. Neither Marlo or Laurel would be willing to risk that again.
"The portal was fully dependant on a single aspect. The right person shows up, and problem solved," Wesley says like describing a magic trick. He keeps talking to Fred, going off on a tangent.
Angel stops listening, wandering to the recesses of his mind. He could be okay without Buffy. He would never be the same, but he could be okay, with time. Angel would always feel the weight of her absence, a void that could never be filled. Buffy would forever be in his reason for fighting. He could best honor her memory by continuing his mission. Their time together solidified her in his memory, and he was now certain that he could live another two hundred years and her touch, her smell, and the way she crinkled her nose when she thought something was funny would still be burned into his memory.
"Yeah," Angel agrees even though Fred and Wesley are no longer listening to him. "The right person." He makes his way to his room, hoping that the sheets still smell like her. He is not ready to go by memory just yet.
